


One Love, Two Mouths

by waywardriot



Series: Vanven Week 2019 [4]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Post-Canon, VanVen Week (Kingdom Hearts), once again self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:21:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21939637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardriot/pseuds/waywardriot
Summary: Just the act of a kiss isn’t final, neither an ironclad bond nor an unbreakable promise, but Ventus knows what Vanitas means; this will change the meaning of their connection even further,threesteps forward to compensate for their usual one step back.Vanven Week Day 4: Together | Breath
Relationships: Vanitas/Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Series: Vanven Week 2019 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576738
Comments: 14
Kudos: 81





	One Love, Two Mouths

**Author's Note:**

> day 4! i really like this one, actually. it's sort of a loose interpretation of the prompt for "breath" but this is what it originally started as.

Ventus doesn’t know how they ended up this close, sitting arm to arm against the foot of Vanitas’s bed, but he’s even more anticipatory knowing that Vanitas isn’t pulling back for one of the first times; as the days and months have passed by, Vanitas has gotten better at being close, but there’s always a point at which he draws back and pretends nothing ever happened.

This time, although Vanitas seems unsure about what’s going on, Ventus doesn’t get the impression that Vanitas is going to pull away; they’re both too focused on what’s happening, caught in a trance they can’t escape on their own. Perhaps Ventus would pull away himself if he sensed Vanitas wanted him to do that, but since Vanitas seems fine with it, there’s no reason for Ventus to deny himself what he’s wanted ever since they were reunited—to be as close to Vanitas as possible, a desire that he never would’ve expected a decade ago. 

It’s nothing but second nature to be drawn so strongly to his other half, and the closer they get, the more insistent his need to act on his urges is. Those press on him right now as Ventus shamelessly stares at Vanitas’s lips, unable to stop himself. He’d be more embarrassed about this and his feelings if not for the fact that he’s pretty sure that Vanitas isn’t staring at the space between his mouth and his nose. While Vanitas’s need likely isn’t as potent and fully-fledged as Ventus’s, he’s willing to bet that Vanitas wants the same thing given by the fact that they’ve both spent the past couple of minutes subtly leaning closer and closer and _closer._ The progress is slow enough that they can deny it if need be, but as they draw in until they’re sharing the same breath, it becomes hard to pretend this isn’t what it looks like.

Maybe he’ll ruin it, but there’s nothing to do but ask, now that Ventus can no longer bear only daydreaming about what’s right there within his reach.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers into the scant space between their lips, heart thundering so fast that it probably shouldn’t be possible. This feels like the right moment, and if it were any other person he’d probably go ahead and kiss them—but this is Vanitas. Ventus has spent too long carefully cultivating trust and choice within him, and it’s important that he knows Vanitas wants this and decided on it himself. After Vanitas went through so much manipulation, Ventus absolutely can’t do anything that’s even remotely related to it.

As expected, Vanitas hesitates briefly, flexing his hands nervously against his thighs as he rolls his lower lip between his teeth; Ventus wonders if he’ll feel the indent against his mouth. “Why?”

That question is certainly not what Ventus was expecting, and he blinks in surprise and then confusion once he realizes that he’s really not sure how to explain it to someone who understands romance so little. If Vanitas could handle that much affection, Ventus would wax poetic about the other half of his heart, the yin to his yang, the one who is at the end of every path—but that’ll probably make Vanitas shut him down faster than anything, so he saves it for some time in the distant future. “Because I want to,” he simply explains, offering a small smile that he hopes is reassuring. 

Vanitas darts his eyes down and is noticeably transfixed by Ventus’s lips once again, and Ventus prays that he’s right about that being a good sign. He won’t ask for an answer just yet; he’ll let Vanitas take all the time he needs to come to terms with such a strong idea. 

While Vanitas thinks, Ventus is content to sit there and rove his eyes over Vanitas’s face, lips to cheekbones to brows and all over again. Normally Vanitas hates Ventus looking directly at him for too long, but he’s thankfully allowing it now, apparently too fixated on Ventus’s mouth to really feel the weight of his gaze. 

Gradually, Vanitas’s hand sweeps its way up Ventus’s arm until it cups his cheek, and Ventus’s heart stops. This really can’t be interpreted as anything but good, and he has to push down a grin that would probably annoy Vanitas, who might even kick him out with some quip about him being too smug for his own good. The usual. 

“There’s no going back from this, is there.” A statement, not a question. 

Just the act of a kiss isn’t final, neither an ironclad bond nor an unbreakable promise, but Ventus knows what Vanitas means; this will change the meaning of their connection even further, _three_ steps forward to compensate for their usual one step back. 

“I’m not asking you to change yourself, Vanitas. If you don’t want to kiss me ever again, that’s fine,” Ventus assures. Well, it wouldn’t exactly be fine—rather, it would be pretty heart-crushing—but he’ll settle for whatever Vanitas chooses because his comfort is paramount when compared to Ventus’s wants and desires. He values their emotional proximity far, far more than any pretense of romance, so he won’t take what little they have for granted.

Vanitas pauses again and sucks in a slow breath through pursed lips, something Ventus has learned is a sign of him preparing for something. “...Okay.”

Ventus’s heart flutters in his chest like butterflies in his stomach have found their way behind his ribs, and he sucks in a breath as well. “Is that a yes?”

“That’s generally what ‘okay’ means,” Vanitas snarks, that more assured side peeking out despite his hesitance. There’s nothing Ventus can do but laugh as he waits for a clear answer; he knows Vanitas hates directly stating these things, finding it weak, but Ventus needs him to be clear about something this impactful. After a few weighted moments, Vanitas relents and mumbles, “Yes, you can kiss me.”

“Thought so,” Ventus trills. 

He doesn’t want to rush this moment, something so important to him that he can feel it wanting to burst out of his chest. This is what he’s been thinking about for an embarrassingly long time, so he wants to savor every single part of this. He wants to memorize the tint on Vanitas’s cheeks, the way he bites his lip, the angle of the light as it catches his eyes. At this moment, Ventus thinks he’s never felt anything purer. 

Coming to mirror Vanitas, he slides one hand up and cups his cheek, one that’s far softer and rounder than he would’ve ever thought when it was obscured by glass and metal. Now he gets to see all of Vanitas, every last bit of his face that he had hidden for so long in insecurity and hesitation. Ventus gently thumbs over the apple of his cheek, drawing his finger underneath his eye and back; Vanitas leans into it subtly, his eyes fluttering shut as his jaw releases a bare amount of tension. 

Taking a calloused hand in his own, Ventus is sure he’s found the meaning of life in the spaces between Vanitas’s eyelashes, those that are gently fluttering as if he’s desperately searching behind his eyelids for something that he’s blind to—and Ventus wants to help him see. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Ventus breathes out so, so softly that Vanitas wouldn’t be able to hear it if not for their close proximity, just one false movement between their mouths. He lets that sentiment rest between them for a few moments and then, sparing Vanitas from having to respond, bridges the space between them that was once so wide it nearly swallowed them whole. 

They always say your first kiss should have fireworks, sparks, something that lets you _know_. But when you already know beyond any shadow of a doubt that this is your person, it just feels right; it feels like something snaps into place and, of course, like you’re whole. 

Having his other half by his side always makes Ventus feel far more complete, more like a person—but kissing his other half makes it so much more. It’s clarity, totality, fullness. He knows that Vanitas still wants more than anything to be one person again, but Ventus hopes that this will suffice in any manner, in any proportion.

It’s over in a few short, sweet moments, but Ventus isn’t even willing to pull back more than necessary to put that brief breath between their lips again. At first, all he does is rest there with his eyes still closed, soaking in the moment and remembering every little thing about their first kiss because he knows he’ll be replaying this in his head for… well, a long, long time. Probably embarrassingly long.

Pressing his forehead to Vanitas’s, Ventus cups both his cheeks with his hands and smiles softly, so overwhelmed by emotions that there’s nothing he could possibly say to properly encapsulate what he’s feeling.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Vanitas asks gruffly, voice quiet and, if Ventus dares to think it, somewhat embarrassed.

Ventus immediately opens his eyes only to be met with Vanitas’s striking own up close, and that just makes him smile even more, almost euphoric in a way that he’s never experienced before. Vanitas loathes those eyes, he knows, but Ventus can’t help but love them just because they’re a part of Vanitas; he loves every part of him, the good and the bad and the whole and the broken, all because they make Vanitas who he is. Any different and it simply wouldn’t be Vanitas.

“Because I’m happy,” Ventus earnestly replies, rubbing his thumbs beneath Vanitas’s eyes and trailing over faint freckles.

“Why?”

Ventus huffs out an exasperated yet fond laugh—typical Vanitas, always questioning everything Ventus says and does, especially when it comes to feelings. “Because I like kissing you, obviously,” he hums. Then, as cognizant of Vanitas’s feelings as always, he asks, “How do you feel about it?”

Vanitas closes his eyes again and touches his lips with two fingers, obviously thinking hard over it. It’s rather amusing to Ventus how Vanitas looks like he’s contemplating a math problem, but he doesn’t laugh because he doesn’t dare disturb the moment.

Vanitas purses his lips and swallows; Ventus sweeps one of his hands over to caress his jaw. They’re still for a little longer, Ventus soaking in the feeling of this new warmth in his chest, before Vanitas agrees, “...I might like it, too.”

“Might?” Ventus teases, barely restrained laughter in his voice. “What does that mean?”

Vanitas’s cheeks start to turn pink, and Ventus thinks he might just die of the giddiness that’s making him lightheaded and short of breath in the best way possible. It’s all he can do to stop himself from pressing another kiss to Vanitas’s lips—or to his blushing cheeks, or his nose, or his forehead, or any place that Vanitas would let him at that moment.

“Shut up,” Vanitas grumbles quietly, placing the hand that was touching his lips back down; Ventus takes it once again, loosely twining their fingers together. “It means…” Vanitas hems and haws, chewing at his lip once again, and then he answers something Ventus didn’t expect at all. “It means to kiss me again.”

“What?” Ventus says dumbly, blinking at Vanitas in surprise. His heart thuds a fluttering rhythm in his chest, and he wonders if he died and is in heaven; _Vanitas_ wants to kiss _again_.

With a subtle scoff, Vanitas lightly digs his thumbnail into Ventus’s cheek in a chastising manner, and Ventus pouts over-exaggeratedly. “You’re not _that_ stupid, Ventus. I can’t make it any clearer.”

Despite the somewhat derisive tone, Ventus’s heart flip-flops in his chest in response to Vanitas saying his name like that—like he always does, like the word is something precious in his mouth, something only for Ventus’s ears.

“Okay,” is all he whispers before he finally lets himself give in to the renewed urge that’s been bubbling in his gut since their lips first connected.

The kiss is still gentle as if Ventus is doing his best not to scare Vanitas off, but it’s nowhere near as tentative as the first time; this is only Ventus’s second kiss ever, yes, but just Vanitas’s approval has made him confident enough that this really is just how things should be.

How things should’ve been all along, back all those years ago when their life—lives—were interrupted so cruelly by a man who had no heart with which to judge.

Vanitas’s hands are hesitant and careful, but Ventus’s heart soars when Vanitas tightens his grip and intertwines their hands more firmly; the empty spaces between Ventus’s fingers feel much better with Vanitas making up for what he’s missing. Vanitas gently thumbs across his cheek, and Ventus gratefully sweeps his hand into Vanitas’s hair.

If there’s anything Ventus is totally sure Vanitas loves, it’s being pet; he practically craves it, and Ventus has on more than one occasion fallen asleep with his hand curled into Vanitas’s hair, both having been lured to sleep by the repetitive, soothing motions. When Ventus brushes his nails against Vanitas’s scalp, Vanitas sighs a little and subtly tilts his head into Ventus’s hand, probably not even aware of it.

That kiss lasts a little longer than their first, but it’s still nowhere near enough for Ventus. He wants to drown in the feeling, warmth and desire filling up his lungs and choking in his throat; like this, he knows he could die happy.

When they part again, there’s barely any space between their lips, and Ventus mumbles just atoms away from Vanitas’s mouth, “Again?”

Vanitas hums an affirmative, and Ventus realizes that Vanitas is practically speechless from all this—that means it’s good, and the reassurance curls around his heart.

Without hesitation, he presses forward once again. When their noses get crushed against each other’s, he tilts his head experimentally, trying to find what works best for them.

That kiss is even less careful than before, their mutual confidence rising with each press of their lips. When they separate once more, Ventus repeats, “Again?” to make sure that this is _still_ okay—which it definitely is, assured by another one of Vanitas’s hums of agreement.

After that, Ventus stops asking and just begins to kiss Vanitas over and over, again and again and again until he’s short of breath, and the warm breath puffing against his face shows that Vanitas is the same, trying to catch it once again. Dizzy from the lack of air, Ventus laughs a little and squeezes Vanitas’s hand like he never wants to let go. With his lightheadedness spurring him on, he pulls back enough to pepper kisses over Vanitas’s face like he had wanted to before; he covers as many inches as he can, ending with flutters over Vanitas’s closed eyelids until he rests his lips against Vanitas’s forehead.

“Why are you,” Vanitas huffs out, pausing to breathe for a moment, “acting like that?”

“Because I…”

_‘Because I love you,’_ he thinks, mentally filling in for where he can’t yet speak.

Really, he comes so close to saying those words, only able to stop himself because he knows that this isn’t yet the time; it will come one day, but for now, he doesn’t want to overwhelm Vanitas. “Because I care about you so, so much.”

Luckily—or perhaps unluckily, depending on how Ventus looks at it—Vanitas doesn’t seem to catch that Ventus was about to release a sentiment that would change everything even further than the kisses. “Oh,” Vanitas succinctly says, at a loss for words. “I don’t know what to say.”

Ventus rolls his eyes, although he does feel a small flicker of disappointment in response to the words. While he knows Vanitas has trouble with positive emotions, always insisting he can’t feel them, Ventus still desperately hopes that one day he’ll have an epiphany.

He’s not going to push for what Vanitas doesn’t know how to give lest he harm their bond, so he just shrugs a little. “You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know.”

“...Okay.” Vanitas moves his hand to the back of Ventus’s neck and curls his fingers into the soft, fuzzy hairs there, and Ventus sighs sweetly.

It just feels right, so he again moves forward and wraps his arms around Vanitas’s shoulders to hold him in a tight embrace. The desire to be even closer to the other half of his heart pushes him to practically clamber into Vanitas’s lap until he can press their chests flush and feel the erratic beat of Vanitas’s heart against him.

Vanitas, obviously caught off guard by the motion, falls backwards onto the mattress and lands with a soft noise of surprise. Ventus laughs happily at that and presses their cheeks together, indulging in the feeling of closeness. There are a few moments where Vanitas is stiff, but he eventually places his hands on Ventus’s waist, remaining there for a heartbeat longer before he winds them around him fully and holds on tentatively.

Ventus is content to lay there like that for as long as Vanitas will let him because god knows whether or not Vanitas will get cagey after as much intimacy as this, so he’s going to hold onto these precious moments while he has the chance. Gradually, their heartbeats slow down and their breaths return to normal after the exhilaration of kissing, and when they beat in tandem, Ventus thinks that he’s never felt more sated in his life.

“Can I kiss you again later?” he whispers into Vanitas’s ear. “You can take the permission back whenever you want.”

That seems to assure Vanitas, and Ventus is glad that he picked up on Vanitas’s apprehension despite the enthusiasm that he had shown just minutes before when they were kissing. Vanitas nods, but Ventus waits in anticipation. “You can,” Vanitas finally murmurs, giving Ventus the absolute confirmation he needs.

Ventus hums happily and nuzzles their cheeks together. “You can kiss me whenever you want, too.”

“Okay.”

That answer makes Ventus smile, and he pulls back to kiss Vanitas one more time, just a light peck, before he lays his head back down on his shoulder. Vanitas makes no attempt to move, so Ventus practically snuggles into him, taking all the chance for contact he can get.

It’s entirely unintentional, but Ventus actually ends up nodding off within a few minutes, lulled to sleep by a cloud of happy haze blanketing him and arms curled around his waist.

At one point in his dreamlike state, it’s possible that he feels a spot of pressure pressed to his hair, but with drowsiness dragging him down further and further, there’s no way that Ventus can ask what it was.

He knows the answer in his heart, anyways; this tender vulnerability is a gift Vanitas has bestowed upon him, and it will always, always be enough for him.


End file.
